


A Moment of Clarity

by plaidshirtjimkirk



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Existential Crisis, F/M, First Time, M/M, Overthinking, Shimabara, Souji is being a little shit, Toshi is tipsy, Toshisami, Yamazaki's mind gets blown in multiple ways lmao, self doubt, yamagiku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/pseuds/plaidshirtjimkirk
Summary: Yamazaki sees all and knows all...until he finds out he's missed a couple of very obvious things.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshizou/Kondou Isami (Hakuouki), Kimigiku/Yamazaki Susumu (Hakuouki)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	A Moment of Clarity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HakuSaitoSan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HakuSaitoSan/gifts).



> Written for my darlin' friend's birthday. <3 A little shinobi shenanigans.

**A Moment of Clarity**

When Hijikata’s hips swayed out in an unnatural manner upon standing, Yamazaki was instantly upon his feet as well. “Fukucho.” Serious eyes slid to Kondo as he steadied his second by the shoulders. “Kyokucho, may I inquire where you intend to go?”

Kondo laughed. _Why_ had he laughed? As Yamazaki’s brows drew inward, he felt the large hand of his commander warmly touch his shoulder. “Always on duty, aren’t you, Yamazaki-kun?”

Hijikata hiccupped and jabbed a finger toward him. “See, that’s why this one’s my favorite, Kat-chan. Along with Saito over there. Attention to detail, love it.”

Concern was clearly present in the ninja’s gaze as he looked between both men. Kondo seemed to be more sober than Hijikata, but by how much, he couldn’t accurately judge and any margin of error was unacceptable when it came to ensuring their safety.

Kondo appeared to pick up on his unrest. “Yamazaki-kun, I promise you we’ll be okay.”

“ _Guaranteed_.” Hiccup.

“Toshi and I have something to talk about.” …Why had Hijikata snorted at that moment? “So look, please go sit down and enjoy the night out. How often is it that you get to unwind at Shimabara?”

‘… _and not be here undercover_ ,’ Kondo hadn’t added, but Yamazaki was quite sure he’d seen the notion reflecting in those golden eyes. Or maybe his ever-paranoid and racing mind had just filled in the blanks. Whatever the case, the point was moot in the present.

“Kondo-kyokucho, I must insist—”

“For fuck’s sake, Yama-chan!” A heavy arm slung about his shoulders out of nowhere, and then came the offensive assault of sake breath as Okita invaded his personal space. “Try reading the room, mm?”

“There is nothing to read,” Yamazaki shot back, making no effort to conceal his disgust while ducking away from the unwelcome contact. He glared with disapproving eyes, darkened only further by chagrin. “The safety of the commander and vice commander is my top priority tonight. It should also be yours.”

Okita’s eyes were half-lidded as he peered, unamused, at a far wall. “Yama-chan, it’s amazing, really. You and Hajime-kun both have the observational ability of a rock at times.”

Saito kept his eyes closed as he sipped his sake, either not hearing or caring about the criticism. That couldn’t have been further from the truth with the other half in question.

The nerve! The audacity! The…the absolute _insolence_! Yamazaki thought his blood might boil. “Saito-san is one of the most observant individuals I have _ever_ met. Do not dare speak ill of him.”

All Okita offered in reply was his signature mischievous laugh, the one that so expertly and arrogantly grated the nerves. “You know that Kondo-san and Hijikata-san are long gone by now?”

A hiss fell from Yamazaki when he whipped around, confirming that his superior officers had, indeed, taken their leave. “I must—!”

“Nope.” Okita grabbed Yamazaki’s arm, pulling him back just before he sprinted through the closed shoji. “You really don’t.” Without a second more of wasted time, he shoved his mouth right next to the ninja’s ear.

And into it, without an iota of sugarcoating, he whispered something.

Yamazaki’s eyes went wide. He shot an incredulous, nearly offended, look in response.

Another obnoxiously gleeful laugh rang out. “Yep! That’s right. Let that little factoid simmer a little in your brain.” Okita finally released him and chuckled openly as he flopped back on his zabuton. “Hajime-kun, look!” He gave a slap to the shoulder. “It’s you finding out all over again.”

Saito’s torso swayed in response to the contact, but he simply continued drinking without a sound. However, he opened his eyes at last and simply dropped his chin once in Yamazaki’s direction: a confirmation.

He went motionless. Didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. His heart might have even stopped.

Toudo-kun and Nagakura-san were laughing loudly at something. Spinning and dizzying, the room suddenly was. Hot. Too hot. Too many voices, too much going on.

Yamazaki had to leave. And yet, he couldn’t move as the pieces started falling in place.

Kondo-kyokucho and Hijikata-fukucho?

_…What?!_

~

“Well, well, well, _well_.” The shoji slid closed.

Yamazaki hadn’t even bothered to turn toward the voice; he knew to whom it belonged and if he were entirely honest—by the by, he was _always_ entirely honest—seeing her right now seemed to be a horrible idea. His brain almost always classified it as such, but the present felt even more dangerous than usual.

And yet…

“Who have we here, all by his lonesome?”

Kimigiku’s ornate kimono came into peripheral then full view as she gracefully assumed seiza across the way. She dressed expensive, _smelled_ expensive. The fabric wrapped about her tall figure was adorned with violet and pink flowers, the golden stitches glittering in candle warmth. And her hair, intricately swept up to expose fully the beauty of her features, left her face much too soft for an individual of her caliber.

…of her _real_ nature and _real_ profession.

Yamazaki, sitting in seiza himself, closed his eyes in defiance. He had enough on his plate.

“No interest in conversation tonight, Yamazaki-san?” she sang softly, reaching for the sake and holding it toward his half-filled cup. To get his attention, she said, “Here. Have more.”

His lashes parted slightly at first, and then all the way. The flat, broad edge of the cup met his lips and he tossed his head back to down the smooth alcohol, then he thrust the vessel toward her. A mumble followed. “Thanks.”

Sake trickled from the carafe, and Yamazaki studied her hands; they carried the pretense of being delicate and non-lethal. Unbelievable.

“Please enjoy.”

He was in no mood for her mind games now, and cut right through to the assumed conclusion. “I am away from the others because I wished for solitude.”

Kimigiku placed the sake down. “I did not pry for your reasons, Yamazaki-san.”

His brow furrowed with a scowl. Bringing the cup back to his face, Yamazaki studied it before swallowing its entirety. He attempted to reach for the carafe to pour his own drink but Kimigiku was faster—as always.

“You are an attentive shinobi, Yamazaki-san,” she said while tending to his next round. “Perceptive, vigilant.” When finished, Kimigiku sat back on her feet. “Committed, loyal. Vigilant. For a human, it is impressive. I have told you this once before.”

“I did not pry for your empty compliments.” A beat. “ _Kimigiku-san_.”

“All of this,” she continued, unfazed by his mockery, “and yet you still fail to comprehend the ties that bind.”

His eyes shot to hers, knowing damn well he needed to be even more on point than ever with alcohol involved. Yamazaki’s tolerance was high, but one could never be too careful. “What are you speaking of?”

“Romance.” It was plainly stated. And when Yamazaki’s gaze averted, she moved only a breath closer to the edge of her zabuton. “You are a samurai and yet you do not know that the purest love is said to be shared _between_ samurai?”

“Do not lecture me in bushido,” Yamazaki snapped, immediately finding her eyes and not concealing the fury her nerve inspired.

“Then why are you here alone, brooding over your commanders?”

Kimigiku’s directness had a deep stripe of blush lighting his skin from ear to ear and it made him instantly incapable of maintaining visual contact. His lips parted but no words left him, and thus, he opted to drink deeply again. When the cup lowered, she was poised, offering the next serving.

He wasn’t _brooding_ ; he was just…shocked. And disturbed. And put off, and disappointed, and maybe even furious. And none of these emotions had anything to do with Hijikata-fukucho being romantically involved with Kondo-kyokucho, or vice-versa. They had nothing to do with the fact that those same individuals were apparently in some room in this very building exalting each other in the fashion keenly specific to bonded samurai.

No, these unpleasant and unwelcome feelings Yamazaki felt were entirely aimed at himself. He was supposed to be the stalwart watchdog: the eyes and ears, the all-knowing one of the Shinsengumi. Information was the greatest asset, just as important as blades and armor, but if _Kimigiku_ could so easily be privy to the relationship his own commanders shared when he’d had no idea, Yamazaki wondered how such a fact could have slipped right beneath his nose?

They’d lived under the same roof for so long, eaten meals together, washed up at the well together. Why had he had to learn it from Okita? Did that mean Toudo-kun knew? Harada-san, Nagakura-san? Sannan-soucho? Surely, Inoue-san knew then. And what of Shimada?

His fists tightened. _How_ could he not have recognized it? What else was he not aware of? What more did Kimigiku know that he should?

Yamazaki pushed the sake she offered away and placed his cup down. Like hell would he express any of this to her, or anyone at all for that matter. “Leave me.” It was a cold command. “I wish to be alone.”

Kimigiku’s hand remained in the place it had been pushed and her eyes bore through him. A challenge?

“Do not believe you are capable of reading me so easily.”

She stared him down for a moment longer before a breathy laugh left her lips. Her shoulders relaxed as the sake was set down on the tray and her hand retreated along the tatami, sweeping over it deliberately before it came to rest on her thigh.

“Reading you. Yamazaki-san, I have done no such thing tonight. You wear your thoughts openly.” A beat. “But perhaps, it is the opposite. Perhaps, I am wishing for _you_ to read _me_ , even at this very moment. Why do you suspect I have come to you, now or at any other time?”

He remained without movement, as if his bones were comprised of rock.

Red lips pulled into a smile, one which he recognized as carrying a double meaning. “You spend your days watching, observing. But clearly, there are some things you will never understand, even when they are right before your very eyes.”

“ _Leave_.”

Kimigiku’s hands pressed to the tatami and she pushed herself to her feet. Those hands, once again all too elegant, took hold of the upper cuff of her kimono and pushed one end off her shoulder. Yamazaki’s eyes went wide when he watched her reach behind and undo the ties, allowing the fabric to slacken about her body.

“What…?” he rasped. “What are you—?!”

The luxurious garment fell to her feet, puddling there as if it were a rag. Yamazaki leapt to stand as Kimigiku continued disrobing and pulling at her underclothes until no details were left to the imagination.

He stood there: speechless and frozen, incapable of rational thought, let alone spoken word.

Breasts. Her toned waist, the curvature of her hips and thighs and the neatly groomed hair covering what lay between.

Yamazaki’s lips opened, his mouth dry. He wanted to turn around, wanted to leave, wanted to—stop lying to himself.

Kimigiku lifted her hands and began to pull at the baubles and pins setting her hair. Locks and curls tumbled carelessly, spilling about her shoulders, her breasts, falling over her back.

“Oni are not reserved like human women.” She stepped out from the pile of adornments, lantern light dancing over her naked body. “We are not inclined to hide what we own, when we wish to put it on display.”

His chest rose and fell, undulating like storm-time ocean waves.

“Is it obvious now, Yamazaki-san?” Kimigiku asked, approaching him and taking his hand. She placed it on her breast, covered the back of it with her own, and pressed it to her soft skin. “Can you understand? Or must this humble courtesan…” Her lips twitched. “…also use her mouth, so soon?”

“You—,” It was all Yamazaki managed to grate out, a gravelly and parched word before the taste of Kimigiku flooded his senses. Her scent, her touch, the sound of her voice, the sensation of a palm pressing against the dark trousers he feared would rip from how tight they’d become.

She was no woman, no lady, no normal courtesan.

She was dangerous, too knowledgeable, too rogue. A demon, a rival, a possible enemy.

Yamazaki’s eyes rolled back.

And now she was pulling the clothes from his body.

They fell naked and entwined to the tatami, the firelight flickering from the movement, and neither making any move for the futon closet.

Because it had to be now.

Because if Yamazaki pulled himself from Kimigiku at this moment, he might have realized the mistake, the threat. He might have begun overthinking, might have run into the safety of a dark corridor. And if he ran, if he stopped her now, he might have forever lived with a regret he could never absolve himself of.

Kimigiku’s lips trailed down his stomach, her muscular arms snaking beneath his thighs and pulling them apart, giving her prime position to take his cock in her mouth. And without so much a moment of teasing, the action drew forth a sound from Yamazaki that he deemed unrecognizable.

This was real. It was happening.

She wanted him. For how long? A night, a year of nights, it didn’t matter. He wanted her. For how long? …Perhaps it was so long that it nearly made him ache? No.

This was forbidden, star-crossed as the foreigners said. It could never, would never work. They were rivals, enemies, oni and human. But also shinobi with conviction. And there they were now.

Those enchanting hands found Yamazaki’s, giving them purchase of something so not to break his own skin with how tightly he’d been clenching his fists. Kimigiku continued to hold them as she, a demon of countless expertise, continued demonstrating just how multi-talented she truly was.

The world went white, static rang in his ears. Veils fell into ash, unbreakable walls collapsed to dust. And in this state of seeing and hearing nothing other than the truth and nothing less, Yamazaki found the clarity he’d coveted after all this time—even if only for a moment.

Desires and needs, curiosities and musings, the deepest yearnings in his mind.

Kimigiku had been there all along.

And like many other things, Yamazaki had known. He’d just chosen not to see.

He opened his eyes. Shimabara had beautiful ceilings, not that he thought about them for long.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! <3333


End file.
